


I Bet The Upholstery In That Diner Was Horrid

by TheBigBadWolf



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: AU, Gen, Gen or Pre-Slash, John and Sherlock - Freeform, Minific, Tumblr Prompt, alternative universe, at one in the morning, based off a tumblr post, in some random diner, random diner in the middle of nowhere at one in the morning AU, sort of
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-27
Updated: 2013-11-27
Packaged: 2018-01-02 18:48:43
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,088
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1060286
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheBigBadWolf/pseuds/TheBigBadWolf
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tumblr post by jaclcfrost: "forget coffee shop AUs there need to be more random diner in the middle of nowhere at one in the morning AUs"</p>
            </blockquote>





	I Bet The Upholstery In That Diner Was Horrid

He was ignoring the familiar itch, he needed his mind clear and focused but this time he’d lose the chance the detective inspector had given him if he fell into ‘not so old’ habits. So there he sat in a horribly lit diner doing his best to push his way through a mental fog. From his corner booth he could see the entire layout of the diner and observe each and every character that walked through the door. There of course were the common cases; the drunk wolfing his way through pancakes, the couple having an affair making eyes at each other, the graveyard shift worker who wants nothing more than to eat and sleep in that order, and several lonely stragglers who found themselves in a diner at one in morning for possibly the first time in their lives.

_Dull._ Sherlock thought to himself. _Was it that difficult to find a good distraction?_

The next patron to walk through the door, however, had caught his attention. _Army doctor. Invalided home from Afghanistan. Or Iraq. Psychosomatic limp._ It was however what happened after he had sat down at the counter and gave the waitress a weak smile, which really interested Sherlock. Another patron had approached the waitress who was taking the doctor’s order and from a pocket within his coat he drew out a gun and pointed it directly at the poor woman. And before the man could even take the safety off the army doctor had moved in a quick series of movements, which Sherlock was very smugly sure only he could keep up with, and completely disarmed and knocked out the wannabe criminal. 

Sherlock stood and approached the army doctor who had immediately returned to a defensive position when Sherlock let his hand hover just above his elbow. 

“I’m sure Mary will be able to pull herself together enough to call the authorities and certainly clever enough to fabricate a believable story of her own.” He nodded the direction of the waitress and with one last sniffle and a nod she dashed off to find her mobile. He had built quite the report with the small diner and its employees and he didn’t have to outright say something for them to understand what he wanted. The interesting army doctor wouldn’t have to be bothered with inquisitive policemen, not when Sherlock wanted to ask his own questions. Gently he guided the man back to his corner booth and motioned for him to sit down.

“Who are you then?” The man’s voice was guarded and he was tensed as if ready to run at any moment. _Now this one is interesting!_

“Sherlock Holmes.” Sherlock flashed a smile that would have scared any other lesser being; it only made the man across from his lift his chin just a bit higher. “And you?” 

“Watson.” The man in question coughed a bit and shifted in his seat. “John Watson.” They sat there and watched each other until the responding policemen had all pushed their way in through the door like a horde of bulls crashing about a china shop. Sherlock pushed himself impossibly close into the wall and John followed suit. Despite his best efforts though one of the officers had recognized him. 

“Sherlock Holmes! What are the chances?” Lingered over the booth and sternly stared at the man trying to melt into the corner. “You had a hand in this didn’t you?” 

“Dimmock. Careful or they’ll make a Detective Inspector out of you.” With a voice dripping in snark Sherlock righted him self and challenged the man. 

“What happened Sherlock?” Officer Dimmock quickly shot a hand to keep Holmes from interrupting. “What _really_ happened?”

“Nothing more than my friend and I being interrupted by some dull-witted criminal.” He flashed another smile at John who was impossible tense on the other side of the booth.

“You don’t have friends.” Dimmock deadpanned. Sherlock seemed to contemplate that one then amended himself. 

“Flatmate then.”

“Nor do you have a flatmate.”

“No I believe I do. John meet Officer Dimmock. Dimmock meet John. Retired army doctor recently invalided home from war.” At this John did his best to keep from squeaking in disbelief and instead opted for letting his jaw dust the floor beneath him. Turning the charm on Sherlock continued. “Now if you don’t mind I have a bit of business to attend to, I sure you wouldn’t want to explain to Lestrade why you’ve detained the man he’s enlisted to help him catch a serial killer who is still at large.” 

“Fine. Whatever. Leave. Like I give a damn anymore.” Dimmock huffed out a sigh and stalked off looking completely and utterly done with everything. 

“Come John!” Sherlock bounded from his seat, grabbed the poor man who was still miles behind, and dragged him from the diner as quick as humanly possible. It wasn’t until they were a block away from the diner that John was reared back and stopped them completely in their tracks.

“What the hell just happened!?” He flapped about and tried not to turn and run in the opposite direction. If he was being completely honest with himself, this was the most ‘alive’ he’s felt in the past week that he’s been home.

“You’ve just returned and you’re looking for a place live, are you not?” Sherlock swirled about; this is what he did best. “You’ve seen war but not just as a soldier. You’re calm, collected and focused yet a flurry of motion and unhinged instinct. You’re not haunted by the war, you miss it.” Sherlock took in a breath and closed in on John. “Seen you’re fair share of injuries?”

“Yes…..I suppose.” John stuttered over his words, still reeling from everything the man had said.

“Loads of trouble as well?”

“Of course.” John stood straighter and nodded.

“Want to see some more?” John visibly froze and honestly thought about how he would answer. His only response came in the form of a nod and Sherlock genuinely returned the smile that was growing across John’s face. “Good! I’ve a serial killer to find.” Sherlock swirled again, clearly making the most of his ostentatious coat and walked off.

“You…..” John faltered a bit but then jogged to keep up with Sherlock Holmes. “You seriously weren’t kidding about that?” Sherlock chuckled and pretended not the notice the several CCTV cameras that were following his path. John having not noticed them at all was too busy thinking to himself that he certainly wouldn’t mind getting used that laugh. 

**Author's Note:**

> Sorry I haven't proofread or anything. I just kind of spewed all over the place. And in my defense I'm a bit loaded up on cold medicine right now.


End file.
